by Joan Jonker
‘I don’t think you should be travelling on buses on your own.’ Harry was fiercely protective these days and didn’t like her out of his sight for long. ‘You’re too near your time, and anything could happen. Why don’t you knock and ask Doris to go with you?’
‘Harry, I’ve still got another month to go!’ She pulled a face. ‘Mind you, if I get much bigger I think I’ll burst. I feel the size of a house.’
‘Being pregnant suits you. You look prettier than ever.’
‘I might look all right, but I certainly don’t feel it! I don’t know what to do with meself sometimes. I can neither sit, stand or lay! I can’t even get comfortable in bed because I get cramp if I lay in the same position too long, and I’m frightened to move in case I wake you up.’
‘Why the heck didn’t you say? I’ll sleep on the couch for a few nights, and you can get a good night’s sleep.’
‘No! You need your sleep!’ A smile spread across Mary’s face. ‘I don’t know how you can sleep though, with the baby kicking the way it does.’
‘It’s woken me a few times, I have to admit. I’m sure it’s going to be a boy because it kicks like a footballer.’
‘It better hadn’t be! It’ll look daft if it is, because everything I’ve got is in pink.’
‘I told you to be on the safe side and stick to white.’ Harry grinned. ‘I don’t want my son to be a cissy.’ His smile dropped when he saw Mary’s face cloud over, and again he asked himself if she was going to let him be a father to the baby, or was she going to shut him out?
Harry jumped up to open the door when they heard the sound of Martha’s crutches. She’d worked hard to become independent and could now move about the downstairs room and make her own way down the yard to the lavatory. Mary waited till her mother was settled in the rocking chair, then took the crutches and stood them against the wall. It grieved her to see her once proud mother dragging her leg behind her, but as sympathy was the last thing Martha wanted, Mary didn’t give any. ‘You won’t be able to sit in that chair when the baby comes, you know! I’ll be spending all me time in it nursing her.’
‘She’s going to be spoilt between the pair of you.’ Harry shook his head as he laughed. ‘You’ve got me at it now! I’m starting to say “her”.’
‘I’d better get a move on.’ Mary sighed. ‘I don’t feel like it, but needs must when the devil drives.’
‘It won’t be long, lass. In a few weeks it’ll all be over, and you’ll forget your aches and pains when you’ve got the baby in your arms.’
‘It can’t come quick enough for me.’ Mary pressed her hands into the small of her back which was aching from the extra weight. ‘It’ll be lovely to walk again without waddling from side to side like a big gorilla.’
After waving Mary off, Harry took his coat from the hallstand. ‘I’m nipping along to me mam’s, Mrs B, to ask if I can have me old bed. Mary’s not getting any sleep, so I can kip down in the spare room till after the baby comes.’ When Martha looked out of the window two hours later, it was to see Harry perched on a coal cart next to Mr Dobson, who was holding the reins of the big black cart horse. The shape of the bed could be seen beneath the sheet Lizzie had lent to keep the coal dust off the bed.
Mr Dobson had been Martha’s coal man for years in the old neighbourhood and she would have loved to have chatted to him for a while, but Harry was in a hurry to get the bed upstairs.
It was half past twelve when Martha shouted up to him, ‘Harry, if you don’t hurry you won’t have time for anything to eat before you go to work.’
‘Mary can get a good night’s sleep now.’
‘Does she know?’
‘No! I’d have done it before if I’d known she wasn’t getting any sleep.’
Martha looked at him with affection. ‘You’re a good man, Harry!’
‘You’re not a bad old stick yourself!’
Harry followed Mary up the stairs that night. ‘D’you feel all right? You’ve been very quiet since I came in.’
Mary was breathless by the time she reached the top stair. ‘I just feel a bit sickly, that’s all. It’s probably with being pushed and prodded at the clinic. I’ll be fine in the morning.’
‘Call me if you want me, won’t you?’
‘Don’t panic!’ Mary didn’t like being fussed over. ‘Thanks for getting the bed! At least I can stretch out tonight without worrying about kicking you out of bed.’
Careful not to press her tummy, Harry took her by the shoulders and kissed her gently. ‘Goodnight and God bless, Mary.’ He waited till the door closed on her, then crossed to the room where he’d be sleeping alone.
Mary climbed into bed, relishing the prospect of being able to toss and turn as much as she liked. She lay on her side, but within minutes she was uncomfortable because her tummy was resting on the bed and made her feel sick. The baby must have been uncomfortable too, because it was kicking like mad. Sleep just wouldn’t come and as time passed she realised she was missing the warmth of Harry sleeping next to her, and the feel of his arms across her body. I’ve got used to him now, she told herself, but I’ll soon get used to sleeping on me own again.
A week before the baby was due, Mary came back from the clinic looking worn out. ‘I haven’t got to go back again until the labour pains start.’
Harry should have left for work by this time, but he’d hung on till she got back to make sure everything was all right. ‘It must be due soon then, mustn’t it?’
‘The doctor said it could be any day now.’ Mary ran her fingers through her hair. ‘It can’t come quick enough for me.’
Harry’s face was white. ‘I’d better stay off.’
‘No! I could go for days yet.’ Mary tried to sound convincing but she wasn’t convinced herself. There were movements in her tummy she hadn’t had before.
Harry hovered by the door, reluctant to leave. ‘Knock for Jim as soon as the pains start. He’s still got that gallon of petrol he’s been saving to take you to the hospital.’ He walked through the door, then came back again. ‘And don’t leave it too late, ’cos it’s a good way to Oxford Street.’
‘Will you stop fussing and go to work! I’ll still be here when you get home tonight.’
The first twinge came about nine o’clock, but Mary didn’t mention it to her mother because it wasn’t really a pain. She had several niggling little twinges after that but nothing she thought bad enough to mention. It was while she was in the kitchen seeing to Harry’s supper that the first real pain came, and its intensity had her doubled up in agony. She was like this when Harry walked in. He took one look at her frightened face and asked, ‘How long have you been like this?’
‘This is the first real pain I’ve had.’ Mary choked back the tears. ‘I had a few twinges, but that was hours ago.’
‘Get your coat while I knock for Jim.’ Harry reached the door and turned. ‘Is your case ready?’
Mary attempted a smile. ‘It’s been ready for weeks.’
Mary was sitting up in bed when Harry strode down the ward beaming. ‘How are you?’
‘Fine!’ Mary’s face was white but her eyes were shining with happiness. Harry took her hand and bent to kiss her. ‘Congratulations, Mrs Sedgemoor! I’m so relieved and happy I feel like singing!’
‘No singing allowed on the wards.’ Mary grinned. ‘Aren’t you going to look at the baby?’ She studied Harry’s face as he gazed with wonder at the scrap of humanity that had caused him so much worry. It was when the doctor had said ‘You’ve got a lovely little girl, Mrs Sedgemoor’, that Mary realised just how much she had to thank Harry for. How ashamed she’d have been if she’d been the only unmarried mother in the ward.
‘She’s beautiful.’ Harry tore his eyes away from the baby for a second. ‘But she’s got dark hair!’ He sounded disappointed. ‘I thought she’d be blonde, like you.’
‘Give her a chance!’ Mary laughed. ‘All babies’ hair and eyes change colour after a few weeks.’
‘How long will you be in?’ He sat down on the side of the bed. ‘I’m missing you already.’
‘If the baby comes on, they’ll let me home in a week. I’ll have to go to bed for another week, but they send a nurse in each day to see to the baby.’
‘Your mam sends her love. She’s dying to see the baby.’
‘They wouldn’t let her in! They only let fathers in!’ As soon as the words left her mouth, Mary realised what she’d said and her face drained of colour.
‘I am her father, Mary! I’ll always think of her as me own daughter.’
Mary closed her eyes to hide the pain he would surely read in them. During the hours of labour she’d tried to tell herself it was no good thinking of what might have been. But it wasn’t easy to forget the man who was the father of the baby lying in the cot at the bottom of her bed.
In the taxi coming back from the hospital, Harry held the baby in his arms. He touched the tiny fingers and his heart lurched as the little fingers curled round one of his. ‘She’s beautiful! Just like her mother.’
Martha was watching out of the window when the taxi drew up, and she’d have given anything to have been able to rush out and welcome her daughter and granddaughter. When Mary walked through the door she started to cry. All the worries and pent up emotions of the last year were in those tears. ‘Oh, lass, it’s good to have you home.’
‘Hey, what’s all this? I bring you a beautiful new granddaughter, and all you can do is cry your eyes out!’
Half laughing, half crying, Martha wiped her eyes. ‘It’s not every day a woman becomes a grandmother, so I’m entitled to a little weep.’
Harry laid the baby on the bed and went to bring the case in while Mary undid the baby’s shawl and blanket. ‘There you are, Grandma! Say hello to our Emma.
‘Where shall I put this?’ Harry stood inside the door with the case in his hand.
‘Just put it in my room, and I’ll sort it out later.’
As he ran up the stairs, Mary’s words rang in his ears. ‘Put it in my room’ she’d said. Was it going to be ‘your room’ and ‘my room’ from now on?
Lizzie and George Sedgemoor called that night to see the baby, and there was much laughter over what she should call Lizzie and Martha. ‘I’d like to be called Grandma, if you don’t mind, Lizzie?’
‘That’s settled then.’ Lizzie nodded. ‘You’re Grandma, and I’ll be Nanna.’
‘I may as well stick my oar in.’ George stuck a thumb in his braces and pulled importantly at the elastic. ‘I want to be Grandad.’
Watching them cooing over the baby, Mary thought how marvellously they were taking it. There’s not many parents would take it like they have, she told herself.
The Sedgemoors didn’t stay long because Harry insisted that Mary go to bed. ‘The Sister gave me strict instructions that you were to go straight to bed. So up those stairs with you!’
As soon as Mary walked in the bedroom, she asked, ‘Where’s the baby’s cot?’
‘I’ve put it in the small room. I thought you wanted to start her off in her own room.’
‘No! I’ll have her in here with me! She needs feeding every three hours, even through the night, so you’d never get any sleep. You’d be better off sleeping in the other room.’
‘I can put up with it for a few weeks,’ Harry protested. ‘It won’t be long before she’s sleeping through the night.’
‘It’ll be more than a few weeks.’ Mary was determined. ‘I’m feeding her meself, so I’ll be putting the light on and off and you’d never get a full night’s sleep.’
The only time Harry saw the baby that week was through the rails of the cot. A few times he’d gone to pick her up when she’d whimpered but Mary had snapped at him. ‘I’m not having her picked up every time she cries! Babies are cute and they soon get to know that if they want nursing all they’ve got to do is cry.’
‘Harry’s very good, lass!’ Martha said one day. ‘He brings in the wood and coal, does the washing and cooking, and even washes the baby’s nappies. There’s not many men like him around!’
‘I know.’ Mary sounded off-hand. ‘But I’ll be up meself in a day or two and I can see to everything then.’
Eileen leaned over the pram where baby Emma had her eyes open and her tiny hands were waving about. ‘She’s an old fashioned little madam, this one.’ Eileen shook the coloured rattle. ‘Two weeks old, an’ she’s all there!’
‘She’s got a good set of lungs, too!’ Harry came to stand beside the pram, smiling at the baby’s antics. ‘Isn’t she beautiful?’
Eileen glanced sideways at him and saw the love shining in his eyes. The more she saw of Harry Sedgemoor the more she liked him. ‘Keeps yez awake at night, does she?’
‘Well, er, no! Not really!’ Harry avoided her eyes as he stammered. ‘I’m sleeping in the spare room, so she doesn’t disturb me.’
Eileen cocked an eyebrow but kept her thoughts to herself. There’ll be trouble brewing here one of these days unless Mary pulls her socks up. What she needed was a quick kick up the backside!
Mary scooped the baby out of the pram and changed the subject. ‘Will you come in me mam’s room for a minute, I want to ask you something?’ She followed Eileen, waited till she sat down, then stood in front of her, swaying gently from side to side as the baby nestled in the crook of her arm. ‘Will you be Emma’s godmother?’
‘Yer wha’! Me a godmother! Yez must be crazy wanting to lumber the poor mite with me!’ But Eileen’s eyes were bright with pleasure as she held her arms out. ‘Give yer here! A godmother has some rights, doesn’t she?’
Mary passed the baby over. ‘Well, will you?’
‘Of course I will – won’t I, sweetheart!’ Emma lay comfortably in the wide lap, her head supported by Eileen’s hands. ‘I’ll have to mend me ways, won’t I? No more swearin’ in front of me goddaughter.’ There was mischief in her voice. ‘Who’s the godfather?’
‘Jim, from next door. Him and Doris have been very good to us and we thought it would be nice to ask him.’
Eileen looked up and caught the look of irritation on Mary’s face as she dodged away from the arm Harry had slipped across her shoulders. Harry’s face paled, and Eileen quickly bent her head so he wouldn’t see her witness his humiliation. Oh, dear! He really was going to have to put his foot down with a firm hand! ‘If yer’d asked someone a bit younger, I might have been able to click!’ Eileen forced a smile for Harry’s sake. ‘You’re a right miserable pair of buggers.’ Her mouth puckered as she looked down at the baby. ‘Excuse Auntie Eileen for swearin’, darling. I’ll watch me mouth in future.’
‘Father Murphy called to see when we were having Emma christened, and he’s going to do it himself, a week on Saturday.’ Mary bent to stroke the baby’s head. ‘We’ll have a little tea here afterwards, just for the family and a few friends.’
A blank look crossed Eileen’s face before one of her hands travelled slowly down the front of her dress. ‘I thought I felt warm all of a sudden! She’s wet me right through to me knickers!’ She threw back her head and roared with laughter. ‘Me an’ yer daughter are goin’ to have to come to an understanding. I’ll watch me mouth, if she’ll watch her other end!’
Mary looked at Eileen fondly. What a difference her presence made. It was unusual to hear genuine belly laughter these days, but as soon as the big woman walked in, the house rang with it. God knows where they’d all be today without her. They say everyone has a guardian angel, well Eileen was certainly hers.
Mind you, Mary turned her head to hide a smile, she didn’t look much like a guardian angel with her scraggy hair and scruffy clothes. And unless Mary was very much mistaken, there was a faint line of a tide mark on Eileen’s neck.
So what, Mary asked herself. I’ve never read a book that said all angels had to wear white and have a halo!
Chapter Twenty-Six
Martha waved when she saw Eileen’s face pressed against the window, and as she reached for her crutc
hes to make the journey down the hall she thanked God that at last she could have a talk to Eileen without Mary or Harry around.
‘I had to go on a message so I thought I’d call in and see me goddaughter.’ Eileen hadn’t tied her turban tightly enough around her head and it had slipped down over one eye giving her the appearance of being drunk. ‘I thought I could cadge a cuppa, as well.’
‘I can make you a pot of tea, but you’d have to carry it in yourself. I can’t manage with these blasted crutches.’
‘On yer own are yer? Where’s the happy couple?’
‘They’ve taken Emma to the clinic. Harry goes with Mary when he’s on mornings.’ Martha’s face was troubled as she smoothed the front of her pinny. ‘Can I talk to you in confidence, Eileen? I’ve no one else to talk to and I’m out of me mind with worry. It’s our Mary. She’s not being fair with Harry, and I don’t know how much longer he’s going to put up with it.’
‘She’s not still sleeping in her own room, is she?’
Martha’s head jerked. ‘They think I don’t know because I can’t get up the stairs. But I’m not blind or stupid. It’s got to the state now where Mary barely opens her mouth to him. She’s even jealous of him with Emma. He dotes on the baby, and the only time he looks happy is when he’s nursing her. But their marriage is a sham. I watched them walking down the road with Harry pushing the pram and Mary walking beside him. Anyone seeing them would think they were a happily married couple. But their marriage is a mockery. She treats him like a lodger, and one of these days he’ll pack his bags and walk out. And I wouldn’t blame him either, because no man would put up with the way she treats him.’ Martha wiped a tear away. ‘At least before the baby came she made an effort to be friendly with him, but now she’s barely civil. God knows he’s tried, but no matter what he does it isn’t right and I can see he’s losing patience with her. I wonder where she thinks we’d be without him?’